


Of Horns and Halos

by Hamilzander_Alexton



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is Ezra, Crowley is Raphael, Gabriel is a bro, Gabriel’s Nice in this fic bc I said so, Hit me up for Raphael headcannons tbh, M/M, Sandalaphon’s a dick, They’re so gay guys, bc he would be the type to believe in herbal medicines, gabriel too, i luv them, i... I’m so soft for Angel crowley, raphael runs a plant shoppe and an apothecary, reverse au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-07 00:04:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20300152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hamilzander_Alexton/pseuds/Hamilzander_Alexton
Summary: Reverse omens au. Crowley and Aziraphale just kinda switched roles. Idk. Just read it, i promise it’s better than this summary





	1. Chapter 1

Raphael was one of the highest beings in heaven, an archangel. He, along with his siblings, the other archangels, were responsible to help god build the universe. He and Gabriel had built the stars... He and Uriel had created plants for Eden… He and Micheal had created medicine… It was nice. Heaven was nice, in the early days. But all the softness and love had worn away. Everyone was apathetic now. Christ, even Raphael was mostly apathetic now. He had to be, had to fit in with the crowd, had to fit in with his siblings. Even though he longed for the old days. He longed for the days where Gabriel would sit and braid his hair as he and Uriel designed a new plant. He longed for the days where he and Micheal would laugh about a stupid joke he had thought of. He missed the love Heaven used to hold. And he missed Ramiel. He missed his fallen sibling. 

There were only a few things he still felt love for, well perhaps love wasn’t the right word, because he loved everything, he had to of course; as an angel. Strong, positive feelings was a better way to see it. Those things were as follows, His plant nursery and apothecary, human inventions, and a certain demon named Ezra. That bastard. He made Raphael feel as though he was going crazy! Of course… the demon didn’t know he was an Archangel… He only knew Raphael as Anthony, the friendly, slightly jaded angel who ran a plant nursery with a funny little apothecary in the back of the shoppe, and who volunteered at the local hospital on the weekends, who owned a blue 1930s Bentley and dressed like it was still 1970 because the aesthetic ‘fit him’. To Ezra, he was just another of the thousands of angels… and honestly? It was nice not to be an archangel all the time. 

His shoppe was the only one on the entire street to have a cute little front garden, with a nice ornate gate and fence too. The tulips were always in bloom, even in the dead of winter, and the grass was always the nicest shade of green. Inside the shoppe, the tiles were a dandelion yellow, contrasting nicely against the sky blue walls. Plants lined the walls on tables and hangers from the ceiling. There was a lovely star pattern on the ceiling, the stars themselves seemed to glow a bit. A set of french doors were situated in the corner which led to the apothecary, in which you could find ingredients for all types of things, from funny little witch potions to home remedies. In the corner of the room was a snake tank that held a white ball python named daisy. Though most of the time, Daisy would be curled around Raphael’s shoulders. 

She was curled around her shoulders when Ezra walked in and plopped himself right down on the little sofa Raphael kept in the nursery. The angel sighed. “What are you doing here?” He asked, a bit of fondness creeping into his tone. 

“Oh, do forgive the intrusion, Dear angel.” The demon crooned, “I’ve just so missed my favourite shoppe in SoHo.” 

Raphael rolled his eyes. “Very well then. Would you like tea, Ezra?” Raphael wasn’t quite fond of food like a certain demon was, but he positively loved drinks, tea and alcohol being his favourites.

“If you wouldn’t mind. A dash of cinnamon’ll do, no sugar or cream.” 

Raphael nodded, hurrying back into the apothecary. He kept a stove back there for ingredients that needed to be boiled, or simmered or anything like that. He also kept a kettle and his tea things, for convenience mostly. 

\---

They chatted for a bit, just casual catching up really. It had been a few weeks since they had seen each other. 

Raphael frowned for a moment. “You did shut the gate on your way in, Ezra?” 

“Yes, why?” He asked, raising a brow, his lips curled up into a smirk. “Who are you trying to keep out, Angel?”

Raphael sighed, “Sandalaphon. He and Gabriel are due for a visit and I miracled the gate so that I’m the only heavenly being that can open it.” He chuckled weakly. “It’s funny to watch Sandalaphon fiddle with the gate.” 

Ezra grinned, “That’s a bit devious, darling, don’t you think?”

“More Petty than devious.” He shrugged a bit

\---

It was maybe a half an hour after that that Raphael heard the tell-tell jostling of the gate being fussed with. His face fell. “Ezra, dear, I’m terribly sorry to cut this short, but I’m afraid my brothers love to interrupt.”

“Say no more, Anthony, I’ll be at the Ritz, there’ll be a seat for you when you’re finished here.” And in a puff of smoke, he was gone. 

Raphael chuckled a bit at the dramatic exit before going to open the gate for Sandalaphon and Gabriel. “You two are a bit early. No worries though, please come in.” 

Sandalaphon made a point to step in one of the flower beds. “Still gardening, Raphael?”

Raphael’s smile never faltered, “Sandalaphon, take your goddamn boot out of my Tulips or I’ll turn you into fertiliser.” He hummed, voice as cheerful as possible. 

Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. “Raphael, don’t say that word!”

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Would you two like to come in or dawdle out here leaving boot-prints in my flower beds?”

“We’d love to come in, Raphael, that is, if we can fit with all the clutter,” Sandalaphon answered, sneering. 

“As if you could fit anywhere anyway.” Raphael muttered, “Been indulging in gluttony, Sandalaphon?” He asked with false pleasantry. 

Gabriel huffed, “Can we just go inside? I’m sick of this bickering!”

Raphael led them into the building, scowling. 

The first thing Sandalaphon noticed were the two mugs on the table next to the sofa and the lingering smell of burning sulfur. “Have a guest did you, Raphael?” It was an open secret that Raphael had a certain softness for a demon. No one knew who the demon was, but they knew the demon existed, they weren’t stupid. 

Raphael sniffed, pursing his lips. “I don’t believe it’s any of your business who I entertain, Sandalaphon.”

Sandalaphon, in response, shoved a flower pot of the table, causing it to shatter. Raphael flinched from the sound. 

“Do not disrespect me, Little brother.” He hissed, glaring at Raphael. 

Gabriel looked away. “Sandalaphon, I do believe he can do as he likes. You aren’t his boss.” He pointed out. 

Raphael sighed to himself, kneeling to pick up the shards. Sure, he could always just miracle the mess away, but his plants were extremely personal to him, so he treated them as such. “Would either of you like a cup of tea?” He asked politely. Someone had to remain civil here, and it certainly wouldn’t be Sandalaphon. 

“Tea?” Gabriel questioned. 

“It’s a human drink, rather nice, a brew of certain leaves that flavour hot water. Then you add cream and sugar.” 

Sandalaphon shook his head. “No. we don’t feel the need to taint our celestial bodies with such trash, thank you, Raphael.”

Gabriel shot Sandalaphon a look. Normally, he’d say something quite similar, but this was his little brother. It was different. “I would love a cup, Raphael.”

The archangel’s eyes positively lit up. “Alright! Back in a mo!” He hummed, hurrying off into the apothecary. 

Sandalaphon looked to Gabriel. “Are you actually going to drink that?” He asked, raising a brow. 

“Only a sip or so, But I’ll have made him happy. You could do to be a good bit nicer to him.”

“You baby him, Gabriel. This here staying on Earth has made him soft.” 

“It’s made him loving, Sandalaphon.” He corrected. “There is nothing wrong with and angel being loving.” 

Raphael popped back into the nursery, carrying a mug with little angel wings by the handle, a cute thing he bought on an impulse. “Do be careful, Gabriel, It’s hot.” He warned, handing it off to the other angel. 

Gabriel took the cup with a gracious smile, “Thank you, Raphael.” He took a small sip, finding it surprisingly better than he thought it would be. He wouldn’t drink it again after this, but he did find the drink oddly pleasant. 

The trio talked for a good while, Sandalaphon being more pleasant towards Raphael, and Raphael, in turn, being an absolute saint (no pun intended) to the both of them. Though, even if the encounter ended well, Raphael still found himself lighting a cigarette the moment they were gone for good.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Raphael locked up the shoppe and hopped into his Bentley, it was an old thing, the kind of car you would see at an old car show, but he had it from new. A car like that was worth a fortune nowadays. Not that he would ever sell it. 

God herself must have blessed that car because Raphael could say with one hundred per cent honesty, it had never given him an issue and he had never had to replace a single piece. He parked the car perfectly in front of the Ritz, patting the door as he got out. As he walked on to the street, everyone within a ten-foot radius felt happier, it was just sort of a side effect of being around a high-ranking angel. 

“Mr Crowley.” The doorman greeted, smiling. He came to the Ritz quite often, they had quite the wine selection. 

“Hello, James.” He hummed, handing the man a five-pound tip. “How’s your day been?” He asked, taking a drag from his cigarette. 

“It’s been decent. Nothing too special, sir.” 

Raphael turned to him, snapping his fingers behind his back, a small miracle never hurt. “I have a feeling the rest of your day is going to be amazing.”

The man chuckled, “I’m sure you’re right. Mr Fell is waiting for you at table 16.” 

“Thank you, James.” He hummed, entering the restaurant. He was fairly certain smoking wasn’t allowed in the establishment, but no one had ever stopped him and quite frankly, he needed that cigarette. 

In retrospect, an angel shouldn’t have as many vices as he did, but if he hadn’t gotten in trouble yet then he wasn’t about to stop now. He walked up to his table (it was practically his table, they reserved it for him every day) where Erza was sitting. “Hello, dear.” He smiled weakly. The visit from his brothers had worn him down more than he would like to admit, and he still had to go back and clean up the mess Sandalaphon had made.

Ezra looked up. “You look tired, take a seat.” He murmured, pouring a glass of wine for the angel. “I take it things didn’t go well?” He asked sympathetically. 

“Not well at all.” He answered glumly, taking another drag from his cigarette. The whole room seemed to dim a bit. “Sandalaphon broke another flowerpot.”

“He breaks your flower pots?” Ezra questioned, raising a brow. 

“All the time. You remember those potted Daffodils and Gloxinia you gave me? He pushed them right off the table.”

Now that made the demon see red. He had given those to Raphael on the day he opened the shoppe all those years ago. And even though Raphael wasn’t fluent in the language of flowers, they were still a gift from Ezra. They were important. Ezra was beyond pissed now, though he was careful not to show it at this moment. Let’s just say Sandalaphon wouldn’t be breaking Raphael’s flower pots anymore. “I’m so sorry, Anthony. He’s just a great big bully.” 

The demon looked up to see his angel had finished his glass of wine and was pouring himself another. He frowned softly. “Let’s slow up on the wine, Angel. This isn’t communion dear.” He chuckled awkwardly. 

Raphael rolled his eyes and pounded down the glass, pouring another. “You sound like Michael now.” He hissed bitterly. He didn’t often let his mask drop like this, show how truly miserable he was. But he was in good company. Trusted company. 

Ezra sighed softly. “Angel, are their visits truly that bad?” 

“Horrible. Gabriel’s the only one I like, and only when it’s just the two of us. The rest of the lot are stuck-up snobs.” He poured another glass.

Ezra took the bottle away at that point. “Four glass limit, savour that one, dearest.”

“You aren’t my bloody boss.” The angel hissed. 

Such a violent change in mood would have shocked anyone else, Raphael seemed like a genuinely cheerful person. But Ezra knew better than to believe the false smiles and cheerful clipped voice. He knew Raphael better. He knew that his angel was apathetic and miserable after a visit from his “Superiors”. He knew there was nothing Raphael loved more than a back rub and a cup of tea while they chatted. He knew that his Angel got terrible migraines from stress and that he loved the colours _ french blue, goldenrod yellow, _ and _ mauve. _He knew practically everything about the angel that had wormed his way into Ezra’s cold, dead heart. And he knew, right now, Raphael needed a cuppa tea, back rub, and a talk. 

“Doll, let’s go back, make you a nice cuppa, give you a back rub, and we’ll talk it out.”

Raphael looked up, biting his lip. That did sound rather nice. “Yeah, ‘lright then, dear.” He murmured sluggishly. 

Ezra stood, pushing in his chair in and hurrying over to Raphael’s side of the table to help him up. He snapped his fingers and the waiter who was serving them thought that they had paid already. Ezra’s small demonic deed for the day. As soon as skin together skin, Ezra let out a shudder. Angels were beings of warmth, to the point where they sucked the warmth out of everything, like a magnet. To touch an Angel was to have your body heat drawn from you immediately, leaving you chilled to the very bone.

Raphael allowed himself to be led out and sat in the passenger’s seat of his beloved Bentley. “Careful, darling. Don’t wreck my car. I’ll smite you.” He muttered. 

Ezra chuckled, “I know, Doll. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I um... I live for ethereal beings having deeply unsettling cryptid level weird traits. So be prepared. That being said, angels will steal your body heat and Demons smell like constant burning :)


	3. Chapter 3

Raphael was sat in his little flat, Ezra rubbing his back with a cup of tea in his hands. The tea was cold from him holding it, but that was fine, He didn’t mind. All of his attention was on Ezra’s hands, working at a certain knot in his shoulders. They were silent, just enjoying each other’s company. Raphael needed this, this time for him to unravel and relax. 

Ezra just continued his slow movements, Demons weren’t suppose to be able to care, but Ezra’s gentle fingers told a different story. Never once did they push too hard or scratch, or anything of the sort. Not even accidentally. 

When Raphael did speak, it was a thank you. Normally, Ezra would chastise him with a playful grin, but when they did this? When Raphael thanked Ezra for helping him wor out the stress put upon him by the other Archangels? Ezra simply nodded, “You’re welcome, Angel.” He whispered in a voice as smooth as honey. A voice that should never have belonged to a demon. Ezra didn’t give a damn who could hear them, if anyone was even listening. He wasn’t going to deny his angel his proper thank you. 

\---

Ezra left hesitantly. He didn’t want to, but Raphael had assured him that he was fine at least thirteen times now, and there really was no valid excuse he could use to stay. So he left, walking to his only lonely little flat. His flat that always smelt like burning sulfur, that had shitty wifi and drafty windows. It was a humbling little place. He could have had penthouses and mansions of all sorts. Hell would have thought nothing of a miracle like that, selfish and all. But He preferred quaint life with his dingy flat covered in books and little trinkets from the ages. 

Time always eluded him, the same way it eluded his darling Anthony. They could talk about things that happened three thousand years ago as if it were last month, and people who had been dead for centuries as if they had just seen them. But his trinkets told time. His books spoke of ages long past. That’s why he loved them so, they helped ground him. Floating through time with no real mortality did things to your mind. Raphael had his flowers, Ezra had his stories. 

  * \- - 

Raphael left his little shoppe to go up to heaven. Every so often he had to go, show his wings, say hello. So, dressing in his favourite blue turtle-neck, putting on his circle shades, and popping a cigarette between his lips, he headed up to heaven. As he left, he pulled on his lilac blazer, pinning a yellow rose to the lapel. His auburn hair was loose around his shoulders, and he looked good. He looked heavenly, aside from the cigarette, which was good. Heavenly was what he was going for. 

Heaven was silent. It always was, Angels communicated telepathically since the dawn of time, since before language was created. Sometimes, after a long visit to heaven, Raphael forgot how to talk. He’d sit in his shoppe for hours and listen to the radio, try to mimick the words, but forget how to make the sounds. It scared him, to lose the little bits of humanity he had. In his humble opinion, humanity was so much better than heavenly grace. To have morals and compassion and love, to have all the things the humans had, all the things the humans imagined the angels to have. It was amazing to Raphael really, that humans thought angels were these beautiful, compassionate things. They weren’t. Angels were nothing like his beloved humans. 

Raphael lit his cigarette with a snap of his fingers, taking a long drag. He decided he quite liked heaven’s perfect clarity marred by his cigarette smoke, found it a good bit of symbolism. 

Michael was the first he ran into. They took the cigarette from his lips, miracling it away. “You know better, Raphael.” They whispered, but their lips never moved. 

Sandalaphon was the next to see him. He took the flower from his lapel, offering a sneer of a smile as he handed it to him. “Leave the garden on Earth, Raphael.” Raphael walked away, huffing. 

Uriel was his next encounter, smiling something that could almost be considered genuine. “Wings out, Baby brother. This is heaven.” 

As Raphael walked away, he brought his wings out, all six of them. 

Gabriel stopped him as he walked past. “Put your wings away, Raphael. You look uncomfortable.” He laid a hand on the other’s shoulder, taking the flower from his fingers and pinning it back in place. “Deep breath, relax.” He urged. “You’re home, no need to be so tense.” Gabriel chuckled softly. 

Raphael smiled warmly. “This is why you’re my favourite.” He hummed. 

  * \- -

Raphael ended up squirrelling himself away with Gabriel the entire time he was there, finishing his smoke and helping his brother with his paperwork as they talked and laughed with each other. For a few hours, Raphael could pretend that heaven was just like it was before earth was created, when he ran the infirmary and everyone smiled more. 

During his entire visit he only saw his other siblings long enough to say goodbye as he left. And wasn’t that just sad? 


	4. Chapter 4

In the weeks after his return, things were calm. He tended to his flowers and stuck to his shoppe. He always sort of drew into himself after visits to heaven, kept to himself until Ezra saw fit to drag him out for some silly little dinner. 

It was three months before Raphael heard from his demon again, it wasn’t exactly abnormal for Ezra to seemingly drop off the face of the earth for periods of time, after all, duty calls constantly. 

And it was a phone call, a very curt one, delivering the information that the antichrist had been placed. The call had put a pit in Raphael’s stomach. This was it, a war was coming.  _ The _ war was coming. And suddenly for the first time in centuries, for the first time since that windy day in 1862, he felt a creeping dread burrow deep in his core and settle. He was going to lose his demon. No matter what the outcome of the war was, he would never see him again. He had eleven years before everything ended. Raphael shuttered. He couldn’t bear to think of it. His eyes fell on the hellfire lantern tucked under his cashier desk and he sighed. 

He left, got himself a drink, had a smoke and returned to his shoppe to see Sandalaphon and Gabriel waiting for him. 

Sandalaphon was the first to speak. “You need to come home, We’re prepping for war.”

He took a long drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke in Sandalaphon’s face. “I won’t.” He replied coolly. “I won’t be fighting in this petty little war. I’ll heal the wounded after the mess is sorted, but I won’t raise my hand in violence. I am the patron saint of healing, Sandalaphon, It’s against my morals.” Raphael spat, glaring at the other. 

Gabriel frowned, “Raphael, there’s a demon walking these same streets, you aren’t safe here!”

“I’m perfectly fine, Gabriel. I refuse to leave my shoppe until I have to. Now, if that’s all lads, I’ll be off. I have a dinner date.” He was lying, of course. He just couldn’t stand to be in the presence of Sandalaphon a moment longer, and he had no doubts that the piece of shit would follow him into his shoppe. As he walked away, he failed to see Sandalaphon snap his fingers, making a candle light and catch the curtains on fire. 

He returned an hour later, seeing his darling shoppe engulfed in flames. He dashed in, panicking. He had to save something, anything! His eyes settled on potted Daffodils and Gloxinia. He grasped it, the ceramic pot scorching hot against his hands. He was covered in soot, his clothes smoldering. Raphael took a walk to a liquor store, drowning his sorrow in liquor like he often did. Once he was good and drunk, he went to Heaven, determined to confront the blessed fool Sandalaphon. After all, who else would have done this? 

\---

Ezra had gone to visit Raphael, wanting a proper talk about all this antichrist business. He hadn’t expected to find the shoppe set ablaze with hellfire. His mind immediately jumped to the worst conclusion. A demon must have found out about them, set the shoppe ablaze and burned his lovely angel. After all, why else couldn’t he sense his darling? They had killed his best friend! He ran into the shoppe without a second thought. Maybe Raphael was in some corner, safe from the flames for the moment, untouched. Maybe everything would be alright. He found nothing, nothing but charred remains of the place he had so often frequent. He should have visited sooner. While he still had had the chance. Raphael was gone now… He was never coming back. No more funny little picnics in St. James parks, No more strawberry splits and vanilla cones with flakes. It was all over. And Ezra was left furious, full of hellful wrath and rage. He made a promise, to the limp ashes, to tear whoever did this limb from limb. To make them regret the idea of touching a hair on his angel’s head. Ezra promised to make them regret ever touching his angel. 

\---

“SANDALAPHON!” Raphael shouted, swaying on his feet. 

The man appeared in front of him. “Yes, Raphael.”

“I’ll kill you, you bastard!” He hissed, staggering forward and punching the angel in front of him.

In a matter of seconds, Gabriel had appeared, holding him back. “Raphael, what happened?!”

“That sonovabitch burnt down my shoppe! I’ll kill him, Gabriel! I’ll kill him with my own hands! I’ll discorporate him here and now!”

“Raphael, you’re drunk, please, we must calm down.” Gabriel pleaded. 

Michael appeared, frowning. “Raphael, keep your head, sober up, now.” 

“Fuck you! Fuck all of you!” He spat, he was on the verge of tears now. “I won’t fight in your war, not now, not ever! It doesn’t matter whether you’ve burnt my shoppe down or not! I’ll never fight for you!  _ I’d rather fall _ !” 

Everyone stilled. Gabriel whipped him around, his eyes frantic. “You don’t mean that! Say it! Say you don’t mean it!” 

Raphael softened. “I didn’t mean it.” He relented. “I didn’t mean it, Gabriel. Just mad s’all. Didn’t mean it.” He assured. 

Michael took Raphael by the arm. “You need to calm down, little brother. Go with Gabriel. Confide in him and release your troubles. I will see to it that Sandalaphon is spoken to about what he has done.”

Raphael just nodded. He was so utterly emotionally exhausted.


End file.
